The Cold
by ShellSueD
Summary: Stephanie unexpectedly stumbles upon Ranger after a long separation. Book canon up to six - then I sent it off into my own little alternate universe. This will be short - only three parts but hopefully they will be good ones.
1. Chapter 1

_I have been working hard on my other story because it's almost finished, but this one wouldn't stay out of my head. So here it is and now I shall go quietly back to working on In the Wind._

* * *

**The Cold**

_**Chapter One:**_

Had I not seen the picture first, I might not have recognized him.

He was bigger, thirty pounds or more. But not fat. No, this was the kind of weight you got from years of manual labor, heavy lifting, and from living where the winters were long and bitterly cold.

His chiseled, angular face was a little rounder and covered by a full beard that furthered the illusion he was someone else. His hair was still dark and silky but it seemed thicker, and certainly longer.

It was fastened at the nape of his neck in a ponytail that hung almost to the middle of his back.

Grizzly Adams, I thought and then a picture of him wrestling with a giant bear flashed through my mind. It made me smile. In truth, he was a carpenter, and that made me laugh out loud. It was something I would never have imagined him doing.

But there he was, chopping wood. And he was good at it. But then, he's always been good at everything. He was dressed for the part – Thick brown work boots – heavy blue jeans hugged power thighs – black thermal shirt that did nothing to hide the substantial chest underneath – and a bulky red plaid coat that was obviously designed for warmth.

Snow was lightly falling, coating the earth in a soft white powder. It covered the mountain tops and clung to the trees. It didn't seem to bother him; he continued chopping methodically, seemingly oblivious to anything around him. But I knew that wasn't true. He was never oblivious to anything.

I continued to watch him, and even from this distance I could see the roughness of his hands from endless physical labor. The ax he was wielding raised high above his head and slammed down powerfully, splitting a log easily. The sound reverberated off the mountains and rang loudly in my ears.

A sudden gust of wind lifted my hair off my shoulders and sprayed snow in my eyes. I looked up at the dull gray color that tinted the sky and pulled my heavy coat tighter around my body.

I took a step onto the uneven dirt path that led to his house and suddenly wondered if he knew I was there. I use to be able to tell when he was near - a small shift in the air around me, a slight tingle running down my spine – but ten years had gone by since I'd seen him last and there was none of that now.

I wasn't sure he'd even want to see me. But I was here, so I had to try.

He gave no indication that he knew I was approaching – but I had no doubt he was tracking my every step. I picked my way through the snow and came to a stop directly in front of him. He didn't even look up, just picked up another log and dropped in on the block.

Not expecting it, I jumped a little when he spoke.

"You better move. This stuff flies everywhere."

Even his voice had changed. It was rough and raspy and matched his appearance perfectly. But his eyes - they were the same. He finally glanced up at me when I didn't heed his advice; the brown was still piercing in its intensity. Hard, and unreadable.

He shrugged and swung his ax. A piece of wood flew up and hit my shoulder and I could feel little shards settling in my hair with the snow.

"I warned you," he said gruffly, grabbed another log and dropped it onto the chopping block. He swung hard and it split in two, raining more debris on my head.

"Ranger." I said his name for the first time in ten years, it sounded strange-even to me.

"My name's James," he said curtly and reached for another log.

Could it really be that he doesn't recognize me? Had I changed that much? I didn't think so, but I guessed it was possible. I was just about to open my mouth and tell him who I was when he spoke again.

"What are you doing here, Stephanie?" He dropped the ax onto the ground and it thumped dully.

A small smile played on my lips. He knew exactly who I was. And he was being typical Ranger, cutting right to the chase. God, I've missed him.

"My name is Melissa," I retorted. That was the name assigned to me when we had been forced into the witness protection program. Apparently, his had been James. It didn't suit him at all.

He opened his mouth to say something when a noise sounded from the trees behind me. He froze, instantly alert and his gaze focused on the forest surrounding us. I watched as he did a slow scan of the property, moving nothing but his eyes.

"Inside," he said abruptly, and threat assessment complete, he headed for his house.

I followed dutifully and shut the door behind me when I stepped through the threshold.

I shook out my hair as I looked around his house. It was a tiny little log cabin, and I knew instantly that he had built it himself. There was something almost painstaking about the detail and I ran my fingers gently over a section of the wall.

I took in everything while he banged around, doing something in the kitchen. It was a small space, but he'd never needed much. There was an intricate stone fireplace built into one wall and I knew he'd laid each of the stones himself.

There was a comfy looking couch in a soft beige color and it had a matching chair. In between the two was a small coffee table that I thought he'd also constructed himself.

I was having a hard time picturing him building things and not running around in black cargo pants and boots, armed to the teeth.

"How did you find me?" he asked stepping into the room from the kitchen. He held two coffee cups and handed one to me. I took it gratefully and sipped at the hot liquid. It felt like the cold had seeped all the way to my bones.

"By sheer accident," I replied.

An eyebrow arched and he took a drink from his own cup. "Care to elaborate?"

I smiled knowing he would never be satisfied with that answer. "Do you mind if I sit?" I asked while already sinking down into the couch.

"Sure. Can I take your coat?" he offered as he set his coffee mug down on the table. I shrugged out of it and handed it to him. He removed his own and turned to hang them on a coat rack by the front door. I saw the slight bulge at the small of his back and smiled. Some things never change.

I took another sip of coffee as he settled into the chair across from me. He picked up his cup and waited for my explanation.

"I was in that little bar in town - Moose's I think it's called?" He nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, well Moose has your picture up on the wall behind the counter. It was quite the shock, but I did manage to ask about you and he directed me here."

Ranger shook his head in obvious exasperation. "I've told him a hundred times to take down that goddamned photo."

I hid a smile behind my coffee cup. "How did that happen anyway? You've never been one to allow your picture to be taken," I said, knowing in our previous lives, he'd gone to great lengths to make sure there were no photographs – or information of any importance – of him anywhere.

He sighed and drank the rest of his coffee. "I built that place for Moose, and at the time, the local newspaper had hired a new photographer who went around town taking picture of just about anything. Unfortunately, she got one of me. It was plastered on the front page of the paper and Moose got such a kick out it, he hung it up on the wall, knowing it would piss me off."

I couldn't help it, I laughed out loud. Of course it would. Ranger hated any and all kinds of attention.

I think he might have rolled his eyes before saying, "What story did you tell him to get him to disclose where I was?"

I shrugged. "I didn't. I just said I was an old friend of yours who hadn't seen you in a while. He laughed and said I was lying because he knew you didn't have any friends."

"Moose is a regular riot," Ranger said dryly, but I'm pretty sure I saw a hint of a smile under all that hair.

"I like him," I said. "He seems like the kind of guy who doesn't take shit from anyone."

"Mmmm," Ranger agreed and rested his arms on the arms of the chair. He quietly assessed me from across the table. "Why did you come here?" he finally asked.

"Did you really think I wouldn't, after seeing your face on the wall of that bar?" My coffee was gone and I shivered a little when I set my mug next to his on the table.

"I meant this town," he said as he rose and grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the back of his chair. "Why did you come to this town?" He crossed to me, wrapped it around my shoulders and then returned to the chair.

I tugged the blanket around me, grateful for the warmth and for Ranger's kindness.

"I was just passing through. Got thirsty and stopped for a drink. I must have stared at that photograph of you for a half an hour before Moose asked me if I was okay." I snuggled further into the blanket and began to wonder if I'd ever feel warm again. "I never thought I'd see you again," I added on a whisper.

Ranger nodded but offered no comment. He never was a great conversationalist.

I shivered again and couldn't decide if I was actually cold or if it was Ranger giving me the chills. It was probably best not to think about it.

"I can't get over how cold it is here," I said, just for something to say. "You wouldn't happen to have another one of these blankets, would you?"

Ranger stared at me. Maybe he was getting the chills too.

"I'll start a fire," he said pushing up out of the chair. "It's supposed to get down below zero tonight."

There was a pile of wood stacked up next to the fireplace and he began gathering logs in his arms.

I watched him for a minute, hardly believing I was actually in the same room with him after so long.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn't know where to begin. I finally decided to start with the bad stuff.

"Do you know about Tank," I asked as he threw some logs into the stone cavern. I didn't know if he'd kept in contact with anyone back in Trenton so I wanted to know if he knew his best friend was dead.

He kept his back to me and kneeled to arrange the logs. He stuffed some kindling underneath the grate and lit the whole pile with a match.

"I heard," he said softly, standing up. He didn't turn around, just rested his hand on the mantle, watching the logs catch and burn.

When my time was finished in the witness protection program, I had gone back home to the Burg. I ran into Tank at a bar one night, shortly after my return. We had a couple of drinks and talked for a while. There was some creep there, doing his best to get me to leave with him, and when he went too far, Tank intervened. It happened so fast, no one in the bar saw it coming. Not even Tank. The guy stabbed him in the gut with a ten inch hunting knife. He bled out before the ambulance could get there.

"Ranger."

He turned around slowly and I half expected him to tell me again that his name was James, but he just looked at me.

"Why didn't you come back – after it was over? Why didn't you come home?"

_tbc..._


	2. Chapter 2

_So this story has taken on a life of it's own and now will have to be three chapters instead of two. I hope that's okay.  
_

_I have very much enjoyed reading everyones comments. Thank you for taking the time to let me know what you think._

* * *

_**Chapter Two:**_

Ranger shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the fireplace mantle. I saw a flash of pain in his dark brown eyes while he examined my face and then they closed briefly, as if it hurt to look at me.

"I thought it would be best," he answered after what seemed an eternity.

"For who? You?"

He shrugged and I didn't know what the shrug meant. Was he agreeing?

"For me?" I tried again.

I got a subtle nod and I couldn't contain the sigh that fell from my mouth. He always thought he knew what was best for me.

"So you thought never seeing me again would be a good thing for me? Why was that, _exactly_?"

He blew out a long breath before answering. "I've done a lot of bad things to a lot of bad people over the course of my life and I didn't want you to ever have to pay the price again for my…past." He looked away, focused on something over my shoulder.

I knew he was thinking about what happened the last time we were together.

What I remember most was the blood. There was so much blood. The air was thick with the coppery scent of it. I used my jacket, held firm pressure over the wound, but the blood soaked through and spilled out onto the asphalt in a thick, dark pool.

The tears came unexpectedly. I blinked furiously to keep them at bay. 'I tried to see you that night," I said. "I tried, but they – they wouldn't let me."

Ranger pushed off the mantel and I thought for second he was going to come to me and wrap me in his arms - maybe I just hoped he would - but he dropped back into the chair across from the couch. I tried not to let my disappointment show and instead fixed my eyes on the spot on his chest where I knew underneath his shirt, there would be a scar an inch above his heart.

It was where the bullet that had been meant for me pierced through his skin.

"I don't remember much," he said, grabbing his coffee mug. He cradled it in both hands and peered inside as if just realizing it was empty. "When I woke up, I already had a new life with a new name, in a new town."

"It wasn't your fault, Ranger."

He shook his head, rolled the cup between his fingers. "If I hadn't dragged you into that mess, you never would have been on his radar."

We got into an unfortunate situation with an arms dealer named Alexander Ramos, whose son tried to frame Ranger for murder. In the process of trying to clear Ranger's name, we were able to gather an alarming amount of evidence against the entire Ramos family. Enough to send them to prison for the rest of their lives – but the most damning was against Alexander himself.

Ranger and I witnessed the murders of Homer and Hannibal Ramos at the hands of their father. He shot them, execution style. We saw the whole thing.

When word got to Alexander that we were set to testify at his trial, he put a contract out on both of us. Ranger, to the surprise of no one, refused protective custody when the FBI suggested it would be a good idea. But the night Ranger was shot protecting me; they no longer gave us an option.

Seeing as we were the only witnesses, and without our evidence and testimony they wouldn't have a case, we were forced into the program.

The FBI handed me over to the US Marshalls that night - right in the hospital. They wouldn't let me see Ranger, wouldn't even tell me if he was alive or dead, just whisked me away with an armed guard.

Six months went by before I was able to get someone to confirm he survived the gunshot.

"I knew exactly what I was getting into, Ranger. You gave me plenty of warning and so did Joe for that matter. And you know if you would have tried to shut me out, I would have ignored you and got involved anyway."

That got a small smile out of him. "Yeah, I know," he agreed. "That's why when Alexander was murdered in prison, and the FBI cut us loose, I took away your choice."

Ramos's lawyers dragged out his case for the better part of two years and a week before the trial was supposed to start, his cell mate took exception to something he said and snapped Alexander's neck with this bare hands.

And just like that, we were no longer a necessary government asset.

After I got the call from my case officer, I was on the first plane home. I missed my family and Lula and Connie but mostly I just wanted to see Ranger again.

But he never came back. I suspected this was part of the reason and now I had confirmation of his misguided, noble attempt to keep me out of harm's way.

"You didn't have the right to make that kind of decision for me," I told him, not trying to hide the fury in my voice. "You didn't even think about how _I_ would feel about it did you? Couldn't you have at least talked to me about it first? Or at least let me say good-bye to you?" I swiped angrily at a tear that had escaped down my cheek against my will. "I waited for you after I went home. I told myself you'd show up any day and that you were just tying up loose ends or setting things up to resume your real life and then you would be back. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and then Tank…"

I watched the clenching of Rangers fists on the arms of the chair at the mention of his friend's name and knew how he felt. Even after all this time, it was still tough to think about Tank. I swallowed the lump in my throat before continuing.

"I thought there was no way you would let something like that go unacknowledged – but again you didn't come – and then there was the money. Jesus, Ranger. Did you really think I wouldn't know where the money came from?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say remained unformed on his tongue.

Three months after the funeral, a lawyer showed up at my door with a briefcase full of paperwork that named me as the sole heir to my Cousin Jason Mazur's estate. I thought that was odd, since I was pretty positive I didn't have a cousin named Jason.

Nearly three million dollars was wire transferred into my account two weeks later.

"That's when I knew you weren't coming back."

Innumerable emotions flicker in Rangers eyes but I couldn't distinguish between them. He remained silent and assessing and I supposed he knew I had more to say to him.

I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, suddenly very tired. I'd had this conversation with him in my head a bunch of times, but actually saying it out loud was exhausting. "I don't suppose you have any wine, do you?" I asked without looking at him.

He didn't respond so I took that as a no, but then a minute later, I felt him sit down next to me on the couch. I lifted my head and found him with a glass of red in each hand. He handed one to me.

"I was sort of joking," I said. "But thank you."

He nodded and took a sip from his glass.

I followed suit and stared into the blazing fire as the cool liquid slid down my throat. It was good and I took another sip. I little liquid courage probably wasn't a bad idea.

"Do you know what job they secured for me? In the program?"

"No, I don't," he said

"Lingerie buyer for JC Penney." I turned and looked at him and his lips were pressed tightly together in an attempt not to laugh.

"I know, right?" I rolled my eyes. "I think everyone is wrong about the government not having a sense of humor."

I drank some more wine and then cradled the glass in my palm, the stem hanging through my fingers.

"I tried to move on after I was sure you wouldn't be coming home," I said swirling the wine around a few times. "I ignored the money and went back to work for Vinnie. When Rangeman disbanded – I assume you sold the company?" He gave a slight nod, "and Vinnie was left with only Lula and me to bring in FTA's, he decided he'd had enough. He sold the business and Vinnie and Lucille moved to Florida." I thought about my cousin from time to time and wondered if he was down there getting intimate with the alligators.

I glanced at Ranger, bit down on the corner of my lip. "Am I talking too much?" I asked. "This feels like a very one sided conversation." He cocked an eyebrow. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I once spent four hours in a car with you on a stakeout and you didn't speak the entire time."

He worked the muscle in his jaw a couple times. "I wanted you to be able to say what you came here to say with minimal interruptions. When you're through, I'm going to say some things to you."

This time I raised an eyebrow. "You are?"

I don't think he could blame me for being skeptical.

"Yes," he said simply. "What did you do after Vinnie closed up shop?"

I sighed and drank some more wine. "I tried out a few different jobs. Button factory, personal products plant, Cluck in a Bucket. None of them worked out very well, so I tried eating doughnuts and being a couch potato, but that just made me fat and tired. Lula suggested maybe I needed a vacation and since I'd never had one, I thought she might be on to something."

I finished my wine and set the glass on the table next to my coffee cup. "So I did what I swore I would never do. I used your money and bought a plane ticket. I didn't go back for three years."

Ranger frowned and sipped from his glass. "Where did you go?" he asked.

"Everywhere," I replied. "I spent a great deal of your money."

"It's your money," he interjected.

"I thought you weren't going to interrupt."

A small smile turned up one corner of his mouth and he gestured with his hand. "Please continue."

"I went to all the places people have on their, 'must see before I die' lists. Italy, Australia, London, Germany. I finally went home for a while because my sister showed up in Trenton, freshly divorced and announced she was going to become a lesbian. My Mother insisted I come home and 'talk some sense back into her'."

"And did you?" he asked.

"Nope. Turns out Valerie left all her sense in California and didn't want any of it back. She lives with a woman named Janice now. It's still the topic of a lot of Burg gossip."

Ranger nodded. There really wasn't much to say about that.

"I didn't stay long. Nothing at home felt like _home_ anymore so I took off again, visited some more 'must see' places. It took me a long time to admit that my little adventures were just an excuse to look for you."

Ranger had been staring into his wine glass and that brought his head up sharply, his eyes full of unspoken questions.

"Stupid, I know." I said. "I feel dumb even telling you about it. I actually thought if I wandered around enough, I would eventually just run into you. What a moron. Except, today that's exactly what happened. I'm still kind of shocked about it."

"Yeah, me too," Ranger said.

"This is the absolute _last_ place I would have ever expected to find you. I thought maybe Barcelona, or Rio or maybe even California, but here? A tiny town in the mountains of Montana? And you, looking like this…." I did a scan of his long hair and the beard. "I feel like I'm in an alternate universe."

He almost smiled. "Where were you headed, before I derailed you today?"

"Home," I replied and then turned away from him, back to the dancing flames of the fire. I was silent for several long beats because I hadn't said it out loud yet and knew as soon as I did, it would be real. "Grandma Mazur died."

I heard Ranger take a couple breaths beside me and then his large hand was on my shoulder. He squeezed once through the thick blanket and then was up on his feet, gathering the glasses and cups from the table.

As I watched him disappear into the kitchen I had one of those epiphanies I'd heard other people talk about having but that I'd never experienced before.

I suddenly knew why I'd said no when Joe Morelli asked me to marry him.

The proposal had been a bit of surprise.

We'd been seeing each other on and off for a while after I'd been back, just falling into old patterns mostly. I didn't think either one of us was ready for any kind of commitment, but Joe showed up one night with the news that he had accepted a position with the FBI and was leaving for Quantico. He pulled out a ring and told me he wanted me to go with him.

I considered it. I really did. I thought life with Joe would probably turn out okay. I knew he loved me and I loved him but there was always something – _wrong_ about our whole relationship from the beginning.

Joe never understood who I am or what I needed from him or from anyone, really. He tried, he really did but we just couldn't get in synch with each other.

Had it been Joe with me here right now, he would have gathered me in his arms and whispered consoling things in my ear and I would have sobbed about my Grandma, probably for hours and then I would have been exhausted and angry for letting myself do that. Grandma wouldn't want anyone crying over her like that. She'd want us to throw a party and get drunk and probably shoot stuff.

Ranger knew exactly what I needed. He knew I needed a minute to compose myself so I wouldn't lose my shit and cry for hours. Ranger has always known exactly what I needed.

Well almost. I can't give him too much credit. If he knew everything I needed, he never would have left me alone for all these years.

He walked back into the living room holding my refilled glass of wine and set it down in front of me. He sank into the chair and looked at me. "Ready?"

I nodded and picked the glass up with both hands. "You sure?" he asked.

I exhaled a long breath and took a giant gulp of wine. "Yes."

"Was she sick?"

"No. Died in her sleep. I bet that pissed her off," I said. "She always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, like Thelma and Louise over a cliff in a convertible."

Ranger smiled his full smile then. His dark skin and even darker beard made his teeth seem impossibly white. "I can picture that," he said. "I'm guessing the viewing will be an open casket."

"You bet. It was specified in her will. More than once."

"She was a pretty great lady," Ranger said and smiled at me again. "Crazy, but great."

"Yea, she was," I agreed. "The funeral is on Saturday so I have to get back on the road soon."


	3. Conclusion

_Here you go, sorry for the delay. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading all your thoughts and comments. I thank you for taking the time to read and letting me know what you think._

_Smut warning for this chapter_

_As always, I do not profit from this in any way shape or form._

* * *

_**The Cold**_

_**Conclusion:**_

Ranger nodded. "If you leave in the morning you'll make it in time."

"I'm planning to leave tonight." I looked at my watch. "Didn't you mention that you were going to say some things to me?"

"I did," he said. The muscles worked in his jaw and I imagined that he was choosing his words carefully. Ranger wasn't a big talker so when he did say things, they were usually important.

He grabbed my glass of wine and drank a huge mouthful of it. I guess even Batman needs some liquid courage sometimes.

He swallowed and then blew out a breath. "When I saw you today, walking up the path to the house, I thought I was going to have a stroke. I was furious that you had found me and at the same time so damn happy to see you I was pretty sure something was going to burst in my brain."

I stared at him for a minute. I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open. "Okay," I said slowly trying to process what he's just said. "Let's start with the furious part."

Ranger shifted in his chair. "I spent a great deal of time and effort constructing this identity and there is only one other person who knows about it. I was sure that's how you found me and I was plotting the different ways I was going to throttle him."

"Wait," I said holding up my hand. "This isn't the identity you had in the program?"

He shook his head. "No, too many people involved in that one. It wouldn't have taken much effort for someone to extract the information.

I thought about that for a minute and wondered how many people were out there who would want that information. Probably more that I wanted to know about.

"Who knows who and where you are?" I asked.

Ranger pressed his lips together and I didn't think he was going to tell me but then he said, "Lester."

"Lester from Rangeman ,Lester?"

"One and the same," Ranger confirmed. I had only met Lester a few times but I liked him. He was always quick with a joke and he had a great smile. And knowing Ranger and his merry men, he was probably equally lethal with a gun or his bare hands.

"You thought Lester ratted you out? I don't think any of your men would ever do that."

"Well Lester had a crush on you so I could see him caving under your considerable charms." There was a hint of a smile at his lips but I wasn't entirely sure if he was kidding. Probably best to move on.

"Alright, what about the happy part?" I really wanted to know about the happy part.

"I've never been so happy to see someone in my whole life."

I lifted both eyebrows. "You are aware that you don't show happiness the way most people do?

"I've been told a time or two," he said.

"If seeing me makes you so happy, why hasn't it happened before now?"

"Because I'm an idiot. At least, that's what Lester tells me."

"I have to admit, I'm kind of inclined to agree with Lester."

"I've wanted to see you, Steph. Not a single day went by that I didn't want to just show up at your door." He took a breath and was silent for a beat. "But there was something I had to do first – unfortunately it took a lot longer than anticipated."

"Did this 'something' have anything to do with this identity you created?"

"Yes. It had everything to do with it."

I waited for more but he was quiet. "Please tell me there's more. I know you're the king of vagueness, but this is a little ridiculous."

Ranger pressed his lips together and blew out a breath. "I want to tell you, but it is not a good story so you need to be absolutely sure you want to know everything because it may change the way you feel about me."

That sounded pretty ominous. "How do you think I feel about you?"

"Well, you use to be in love with me, but now – I really don't know. I'm sure you're upset and angry with me, but I hope that there's still some sort of affection mixed in with all that."

Ranger knew I was in love with him? Damn. "You knew? Jeez, was I that obvious?"

"No more than I was."

I stared at him for a full minute. "Did you just tell me that you were in love with me too?"

"You didn't know? We're getting a little off topic here."

I could feel myself blinking a lot. Ranger obviously doesn't understand you can't just tell a girl you were in love with her and then move on to something else. "Okay," I said eventually. "We can come back to that later. Tell me the story."

"Are you sure?"

"Tell me," I demanded.

Ranger nodded. "Okay. I'll start with the money, since you seem pretty miffed about that." My eyes narrowed in a glare. I was miffed about the money. What the hell was all that money about?

"When I first got word about the price on our heads and I finally got you to agree to come to my safe house, I started liquidating some assets and I sold some property. I was getting us ready to go completely underground."

"Us?"

"Yes, us. I was going to bring you with me. But the night the assassin came for you changed everything."

I thought about that night frequently. I had agreed to the safe house and that night we were headed there. But I had forgotten all about Rex and I made Ranger go back for him.

The hit man was there waiting at my apartment building. The FBI made the assumption that they targeted me first because Ranger would be a lot harder to kill. They were right about that.

I didn't even really see what happened. My feet had barely touched the ground in the parking lot and Ranger had a gun in one hand and was yanking my arm with the other. Shots were fired and Ranger went down. I still have the scar on my arm where the bullet grazed it on its way into Ranger's chest.

Someone in my building called the police and an ambulance which was good because the sight of Ranger bleeding on the asphalt rendered me completely incompetent.

I found out at the hospital that the assassin was dead. Ranger managed to get two shots off. Right between the eyes.

"How did it change your plans?"

"Do you recall that Alexander Ramos had a third son?"

The question surprised me. "Um, yeah. Vaguely. He had one of those old pretentious names, right?

"Ulysses," Ranger said.

"Yeah. Ulysses." I rolled my eyes. "Those kids were doomed from the start."

Ranger smiled a little. "I knew the guy who came to kill you."

My mind went blank for a second. "What do you mean, you knew him? Like you were friends?"

Ranger shook his head. "No, but he was friends with Ulysses Ramos. I knew him from the army. He was special forces."

"One of yours?"

"Not in my unit, no. But our paths crossed from time to time. He had a reputation for walking too close to the crazy line. He was discharged, dishonorably, and somehow he ended up hooking up with Ramos. Crazy seeks crazy sometimes, so in a way it made sense. When I saw him that night, I knew it had been Ulysses that called the contract on us, not Alexander."

I felt my spine stiffen. "I'm not really sure what that means."

"It means the FBI was wrong and when Alexander was killed in prison, there was still an active contract out on both of us."

I was having a difficult time breathing and I leaned forward, rested my forearms on my thighs and debated whether or not I should stick my head between my knees to help. "Are you telling me that contract is still in play?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

I sat back and covered my mouth with my hand that had suddenly started shaking. "You killed Ulysses," I said. And it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Ranger said slowly. "And a few of his hired guns along the way. I'm sorry it took so long. Ulysses was actually the smart one of the three brothers and he had mostly unlimited resources available to him. He hid very well."

Holy shit. "That's what you've been doing this whole time? Hunting Ulysses Ramos?"

Ranger nodded once.

"By yourself?"

"Mostly. Lester and Bobby helped out whenever they could. They were my ears on the ground about the contracts so I knew whenever anyone new picked them up. When the assassins started disappearing, it got to the point where no one would accept the contracts anymore, no matter how high the price got."

I frowned and rubbed at my head.

"I told you it wasn't a good story," he said.

I was at a complete loss. What do you say to something like that? "You should have told me," I finally said. "Maybe we could have come up with a different way. Weren't there any other options?"

Ranger shrugged. "Yeah there were, but you wouldn't have liked those either. One – I could have told the FBI what I learned. That is was Ulysses behind the whole thing. That he in fact ran the business and not the others like everyone assumed. They would have made an effort to find him, but it wouldn't have lasted long; they didn't have the resources or manpower. We would have been kept in the program, probably for the rest of our lives, and not together. I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to have to pretend to be someone else for the rest of your life."

He was right I would have hated that. I hated every second of the two years I was forced to endure it.

"Two," he continued. "I could have brought you with me. But I would have kept you locked up where no one could ever get to you and you would have hated that too. You would get to be you, but you hate being confined. It would have made you insane. I didn't want that for you either."

"Is that why you gave me the money? So I could use it to have whatever life it was you _did_ want for me?"

He nodded. "I considered that money as ours. It was supposed to be so we could get out of there and start a new life somewhere else, but when I made the decision that I was going to get Ramos or die trying I wanted you to have it in case I _did_ die trying. I wanted you to be able to go places and see places and live whatever life you wanted."

I grabbed my wine off the coffee table and chugged the rest of it like beer.

"You should have told me," I said again. "I could have helped you. We could have done this together."

Ranger shook his head sadly. "That's not who you are, Stephanie. You're not a killer."

"I've killed someone," I pointed out.

"It's not the same thing and you know it. This would have changed you and not in a good way. I had to do this on my own. I wouldn't have been able to bear it if he'd gotten to you. I'm sorry that I didn't discuss it with you and I'm sorry that my decision hurt you, but I'm not sorry that you're alive and sitting here in front of me."

"_Jesus_," I said because I couldn't think of anything else to say. I tipped my head back on the couch and inspected the ceiling for a while because I couldn't look at him anymore. I knew I would cry if I looked at him.

A question popped in my mind. I kept my eyes on the ceiling and I asked it, even though I knew I would hate the answer.

"When did you find him, Ranger?"

There were several long moments of silence before he responded.

"Eighteen months ago."

I bit back a sob and exhaled slowly. "Eighteen months and you couldn't pick up a phone? Lester's right. You're an idiot."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed. "I was sure that you'd moved on by now and honestly, I didn't think I could take if you were married or even with someone else."

I lifted my head and looked at him. "I never took you for a coward."

"Lester said the same thing."

"Lester is apparently a lot smarter than you."

"I'm starting to figure that out."

"I think it's time for me to go home," I said and pushed up off the couch. I didn't really want to leave. I actually never wanted to leave. I was afraid if I left I would never see him again. I was angry, yes, but I knew it wouldn't last. In a way, I understood why he did what he did – I don't think it was the right decision, but it's done now and I can't change the past and I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing if our positions had been reversed.

As much as wanted to stay, I needed to go home and say good-bye to my Grandma.

"I understand," Ranger said, "but you're going to have to wait. The storm has gotten pretty bad out there. Not safe to drive."

I looked at my watch. If I left now I could get home by Friday. "How do you even know that? There aren't any windows in this house."

"I've lived here a while, I'm familiar with the weather. It's snowing too hard, Steph. You won't be able to see two feet in front of you. It will let up in a couple of hours, but for now you'll have to be stuck here with me."

"I'm sure I can manage," I said and stalked over to the door to get my coat. "I'm a big girl; I can handle a little snow." I was actually being a petulant little girl, but I couldn't help myself.

I stuffed my arms through the sleeves and looked at him while I tied the belt in the front. "Will I ever hear from you after tonight, or is this it for us?"

"I suppose I deserved that," he said. "I'll call you, I promise."

I saw the truth of it in his eyes and nodded. "Okay. Oh and for the record I feel the same way about you that I always have. I still think that you should have told me and let me make the decision about how I wanted my life to go. Part of me hates that you left me alone for so long but the rest of me is grateful you did what you thought you had to do to keep me alive. I'm grateful that I have a life to live, even if it isn't the life I wanted."

Having said my peace, I turned away from him and pulled open the door. An icy blast of wind nearly knocked me over. The snow was coming down in thick sheets and I couldn't see two feet past the porch. I hated that he was right and I was really tempted to try my luck in the snow but I wasn't feeling particularly suicidal.

I spun around to go back to the warmth of the fire and sucked in a breath. Ranger was standing a foot from me.

"I've hated every second of my life without you in it," he said.

My heart turned over in my chest. "Me too," I replied.

"I made the wrong decision. I should have never left you," he finally admitted.

"I agree." My breath was becoming erratic. If I just took one step I would be able to kiss him. I _really_ wanted to kiss him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Me too."

We locked eyes and his breathing synched with mine. "If I touch you right now you won't be leaving tonight," he warned.

"I don't want to leave," I said quietly.

He grabbed the lapels of my coat and pulled me to him. His mouth was on mine before I could take a breath. My lips parted and the touch of his tongue sent a jolt of heat spiraling through my body. I felt my knees wobble and Ranger's arm slipped inside my coat and around my waist, holding me up against the hard length of his body.

He broke the kiss so we could breathe and kicked the door shut with his boot. I hadn't even noticed the cold wind swirling around us, blowing snow inside the house. In a second, he had me backed up to the door. He leaned against me and his leg slid between mine. His mouth was on my neck just below my ear; his hands were working their way up and under my shirt.

I was practically panting and knew if I didn't slow this down we were both going to end up naked.

I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back gently. He withdrew immediately, detaching his lips from my throat and stood staring down at me, his eyes gleaming black with desire.

"I think I'm gonna need a minute," I said, breathing hard.

"Probably a good idea," he agreed and took another small step backwards.

I leaned my head back against the door and tried to catch my breath. "I'm still angry with you," I told him.

"I know," he said.

"You wasted a lot years that we could have been together."

"I know. There hasn't been a day I didn't regret it."

"Well that's a start," I stated.

I exhaled slowly trying to get my pulse back down from stroke level, which wasn't easy with him standing there with that look in his eyes, his chest heaving, and the bulge behind the front of his jeans.

"This look you have going on is a little disconcerting," I said, gesturing vaguely with my hands. "The hair and the beard and the jeans…"

He smiled and ran a hand over his long ponytail. "Yeah, I could probably use a haircut."

"Yes," I agreed. "I'm pretty sure it's longer than mine. A shave wouldn't hurt either. That beard is a little rough." I rubbed at my face where I knew it was probably red from the friction.

Ranger lifted an eyebrow and then disappeared through a door I could only assume was the bedroom. I stayed rooted to the floor trying hard not to think about Ranger's bedroom.

He was back in front of me a minute later holding a small toiletry bag and two fluffy white towels. "C'mon," he said, gesturing to the kitchen with a tilt of the head.

I shrugged out of my jacket, hung it on the rack and padded after him. I watched as he set the towels on the small kitchen table and began extracting items from the bag. Scissors, an old fashioned straight razor, shaving cream and a comb.

He slid his eyes to me. "Time to try out a new profession." He picked up the scissors up by the blades and held the handles out to me.

"You want me to cut your hair?"

"Yes."

"But, I don't know how to cut hair."

He grinned. "It's just hair. I'm not all that concerned with quality."

He pulled out a chair from the table and sat in it facing away from me. His pony tail hung down behind him, almost to the top of the back of the chair.

I opened and closed the scissors a few times. This was bound to be a disaster. "How short do you want it?"

"You're the one with the scissors. I'll leave it up to you." I was pretty sure he was smiling.

I wrapped one of the white towels around his shoulders and he held the ends together in front of him. I lifted the ponytail and examined it. The hair was soft and silky and smelled faintly of something citrusy.

I opened the scissors and inserted the hair in between the blades two inches below the elastic band holding it together. "Okay, here goes nothing." I held my breath and began to cut.

The hair was thick so it took a few cuts to get the job done. When I'd made it all the way through I was holding a foot of his hair in my hand. I let out the breath I'd been holding. "How do you feel? I asked.

"Lighter," he told me.

"Hah hah." I set the hair down on the table and removed the elastic band. I fluffed out his remaining hair and ran the comb through it. "I think it's still too long," I said.

"You still have the scissors," he pointed out.

Indeed I did. I set about cutting some more, not having a clue what I was doing. I sheared away until the length barely touched the tops of his shoulders, leaving it just long enough to be able to tie it back from his face if he wanted to.

I set the scissors down and moved in front of him. I reached out and ran my fingers through each side of his hair to make sure it was even. I heard him suck in a breath at my touch. I took a step back, crossed my arms over my chest and took a good look at my work.

"Well?" he asked when I didn't say anything.

I made a face. "You could tell people you had an accident with a wood chipper."

"That bad, huh?"

Truthfully it was pretty good. Actually it was r_eally _good. I wanted to run my hands through it again. Or maybe a bunch of times. Instead, I buried them in my pockets and rocked back on my heels. "It will grow back," I assured him.

He barked out a laugh. "Alright, get started on this beard."

"You want me to shave you?"

He grinned. "Yes."

"That's a straight razor," I said pointing to the table.

"I like the straight razor. You get the closest shave that way."

"I've only seen it done in a movie. I could cut your throat."

"I like to live dangerously." I think I saw a twinkle in his eyes.

"Okay, it's your face." I looked around the kitchen and grabbed a bowl that was sitting empty on the counter. "Bring the chair over here to the sink," I said, filling the bowl with hot water.

I set the full bowl beside the sink and went to get the razor, shaving cream and the remaining towel while Ranger got the chair situated.

When I turned around, Ranger was standing by the chair, holding the other towel, watching me. "You should take your shirt off so it doesn't get wet," I said.

There was a beat of silence and then he lifted his shirt up and off his body. He let if fall from his hand to the floor next to his feet.

Damn. Probably I should have had him leave his shirt on. I tried not to stare, but my eyes had a mind of their own. They did a slow scan from the waistband of his jeans up to the rock hard stomach, to the wide expanse of his chest. My throat went suddenly dry when my gaze stopped at the scar above his heart.

I took a step to him, set the bundle in my arms on the counter next to the bowl and then before I knew what was happening, my hand was on his chest, right over the scar.

Ranger covered it with his. His eyes fixed on mine. "I would do it again," he said gently. "I would take a bullet a thousand times if it meant you didn't have to."

I couldn't think of a single thing to say so I nodded and blinked back the tears that pooled in my eyes. He squeezed my hand and let go with a small smile.

"Sit," I finally said, pointing to the chair.

He obeyed and I set about getting ready to shave his face. I tucked the towel around his chest and then started by trimming his whole beard as close as I could with the scissors. When that was done, I lathered up one side of his face with the cream. I picked up the razor and ran my finger gently over the blade. It was really damn sharp.

I looked down at him. "Are you sure about this?"

He raised both eyebrows and tipped his head back, resting it on the sink. I guess he was sure.

I blew out a breath and did the initial swipe with the razor. I held my breath as it scraped over his skin, deftly removing all the hair in its path. I withdrew the blade and waited. No blood. I exhaled with relief and rinsed the razor in the bowl of water.

Emboldened by my inaugural attempt, I continued on with the rest of his face. Neither of us spoke and I don't think Ranger moved an inch. Probably best when someone is holding a straight razor at your throat.

Finally, I was done and not a drop of blood had been spilled. I ran hot water over the towel and then stood in front of him. I lightly wiped the remnants of shaving cream from his face until it was clean. I tossed the towel into the sink and took a step back so I could get a good look at him.

"_Oh boy_," I let out on a sigh. He was sexy as hell. I lost the internal battle I was having with my hands and stepped forward so I could run them through his hair.

I speared my fingers through both sides of his head and then ran them over the now smooth skin of his face. My breath quickened as we locked eyes.

"Babe," he whispered and I felt my heart melt inside my chest.

I seared my lips to his, my hand at the nape of his neck and he lifted me onto his lap. My legs straddled over either side of the chair and his arms wrapped around my waist, his hands firm on my back. His mouth opened to my probing tongue and he moaned low in his throat as our tongues clashed.

Without breaking the kiss, he was up on his feet, his hands under the curve of my butt, and carrying me out of the kitchen. I wrapped my legs around his waist as his mouth left mine and blazed a trail down my cheek to the soft skin of my neck.

I expected we'd end up in his bed but that was entirely too far as he was kneeling, lowering me to the soft and thick rug in front of the fire. My hands slid up and flattened on the warm skin of his chest. I felt the wide firmness of the muscles beneath and the quick, hard beating of his heart.

God, I wanted him.

"Ranger," I breathed, my pulse pounding so hard I barely heard my own voice.

His hands went beneath my shirt; he pushed it up and out of the way, and his mouth was on my breast, burning me through the thin red satin of my bra. I gasped and he released the front clasp, pushed the whole thing out of his way. I arched up into the heat of his mouth as it claimed my nipple.

"_Range_r," I said again, not able to form any other words. He lifted his head and his gaze burned into mine. He pulled off my shirt and bra and as I lay there, bare to the waist, he looked down at me, devouring me with his eyes. He rocked back on his heels and pulled off my boots and socks and then ran his hand back up the length of my legs. He deftly undid the button at my waist and peeled off my pants and underwear together.

I was just about to reach for the button on his jeans but he was on his feet already, kicking off his boots and socks and stripping off his pants like a man on a mission - and then for moment - he stood naked in the firelight. The flames reflected off the smooth expanse of his dark skin, dancing on his chest and glittering in his black of his eyes. I took in the muscled width of his shoulders, the classic V of his torso, the lean hips, and the long, powerful legs.

And then what was between them.

"_Wow_," I whispered and before the word was even off my tongue he was coming down on top of me. His mouth covered mine, his hands covered everywhere, and then he was inside me, moving hard and fast and all I could do was wrap my arms and legs around him and hold on.

When we were done, I lay limp and boneless beside him with not a thought in my head. I concentrated on breathing in and out and even that seem like a chore.

Ranger pulled me closer, wrapping me in his arms. They were warm and hard, his body firm and muscular and I sighed as he kissed me just below my ear. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Mmmm," was all I could manage as a response. I couldn't keep my eyes open and thought that it would be okay if I slept forever, right there on the rug next him.

I heard a light laugh and then Ranger picked me up from the floor, threw me over his shoulder in the fireman carry and carted me off to the bedroom.

He pulled back the covers on his bed, gently tucked me between the sheets and slid in beside me, pulling me close. He nuzzled my neck and placed soft kisses on my cheeks.

"Babe?" His voice was low and quiet.

"Hmm?"

"I know that we still have a lot to talk about, a lot to work through, but I need you to know that I love you."

My heart stilled in my chest for a beat and then began again, pumping a little faster than normal. "I love you back," I whispered and lightly kissed his lips.

I drifted off to sleep with Rangers head tucked beneath my bicep, his cheek on my breast and an arm draped across my stomach.

When I awoke in the morning he was still there sleeping soundly. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was getting late and I really needed to get going. "Ranger," I whispered and ran my fingers through his newly shorn hair before trying to lift his head.

He mumbled a sleepy protest and burrowed his head closer against my side.

I laughed a little. "Ranger, I really have to get up."

He lifted his head and looked at me with sleepy eyes. "Now?"

"It's late," I replied.

"Or early. It's all a matter of perspective." His hand moved up to my breast and he lightly ran his thumb over the nipple. It hardened under his touch and his name fell from my mouth on a sigh of pleasure. With no more encouragement than that, he stretched out along the length of my body so that we were touching collarbone to toes. "Another half an hour won't matter."

He rocked forward slightly and I could feel him getting hard between us. His eyes turned dark with desire and he lowered his head to my breast. He whispered, "a half an hour" as his lips moved against my already raised nipple. His tongue darted out, caressing it.

A moan might have escaped my throat. "You're not playing fair, Ranger."

"I'm cheating like hell," he agreed. I arched my body up to increase the pressure on his erection and he growled softly. "But so are you."

"Because I want you to win."

He grinned at me and slid his palms up the underside of my arms until they were stretched far above my head. My thighs relaxed beneath his and I opened them for him. He laced his fingers through mine and entered me slowly.

"Hmmm. I don't guess I'll be going anytime soon."

He pressed forward. "Will you be coming?"

I rolled my hips up to receive his slow thrusts. "No question. I'll definitely be coming."

Thirty minutes later I was rolling off the bed and tripped over a bag at my feet. "What's this?" I asked.

"Your bag."

"How did it get here?"

Ranger smiled and propped his head up with his hand. "I brought it in from your car last night while you were sleeping."

"I didn't hear you get up," I said frowning at him. Apparently Ranger still moved like a ninja.

"Doesn't mean it didn't happen, babe."

I rolled my eyes. "That was nice, thank you. I need a quick shower and then I have to get on the road," I said gathering my bag from the floor.

"I'll shower with you," he said. "It will save time."

"I'm pretty sure that will not save time," I replied with an arched eye brow. He gave me a wolfish smile and I let him follow me into the bathroom.

Forty minutes later we were both clean and dressed and I was pulling on my coat. "I'll come back right after the funeral," I said.

"I don't have any doubt." He grabbed his coat off the rack and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

"You really don't have to walk me to my car," I said.

He looked at me and then picked up the two bags that were sitting by the front door. That was odd. I only had one bag.

"I'm not," he said. "I'm going with you."

I stared at him and then grabbed him by the front of his jacket and pulled him to me for a kiss. "Thank you," I whispered against his lips.

He smiled and slung his arm over my shoulder. We stepped outside into the blinding white of the snow. The cold was startling, but to be honest, tucked inside Ranger's arm, close against the heat of his body, I didn't really notice.

_The end_


End file.
